That night, I couldn’t sleep.
The darkness seemed to press against me, like a living, breathing entity, pulsing with unnatural life.
My mind perpetually whirled with images of Edna. I could practically see her broken body in the alley, arms and legs bent at unnatural angles, her eyes glazed and lifeless … staring at nothing but shadows that seemed to coalesce behind me, gathering together to leap upon me …
I jerked in bed, clawing at my throat. I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. It was like the darkness had turned thick and muddy, and I was trying to breathe water or maybe the earth itself, as its tendrils slowly worked its way around my neck like a noose, tightening, tightening …
The panic threatened to overcome me. The urge to run pulsed through my veins. Whatever was haunting the Hoffman Farm had obviously followed me home, and now it was here, in my bedroom, just biding its time until I lowered my guard so it could pounce …
With a strangled cry, I rolled out of bed and scrambled to the door. I had to get out. Before it was too late.
My fingers clawed helplessly at the doorknob, unable to grasp it, to turn it, and I could feel my heart stop in my chest. I was locked in.
I was going to die.
I could feel the darkness approaching, whispering against my bare skin. I wanted to scream; I tried to scream, but managed nothing more than a pathetic whimper. I attacked the door like I was trying to tear it from its hinges. Suddenly, it flung open, and finally, I was out.
I didn’t think, just ran down the hallway. I needed to get as far away from the darkness hiding in my room as possible, though I could feel it patiently waiting for my return.
I practically threw myself down the stairs, somehow managing to stay on my feet. From there, I skidded into the kitchen, my hand reaching desperately for the light switch.
Except there was no switch, only smoothness beneath my hand where the light switch should be.
Wildly, I glanced around the room. Was I remembering it wrong? Had I come in the wrong door? Was I losing my mind?
I couldn’t see a thing. The kitchen was shrouded in darkness, the only light pale gray from the slip of moon filtering through the window. It only served to highlight the shadows.
Shadows.
Check out the full book, What Wasn’t Forgotten, Book 9 and the final book in the Secrets of Redemption series right here.
